1. السُحبُ تُرضِعُ مِن بَناتِ الأَرضِ ما

    جَعَلَ الرَبيعُ لَها الغُصونَ مَهودا

    The clouds suckle, among the daughters of earth, those

    for whom spring has made the boughs into cradles.

  2. وَالراحُ قَد نَظَمَ المِزاجُ لِجيدِها

    دُرَّ الحَبابِ قَلائِداً وَعُقودا

    And wine—the mingling has strung around her neck

    the bubbles’ pearls, as necklaces and strands.

  3. فَاِستَجلِ مِنها ما إِذا اِفتُرِعَت غَدا

    مِنها السُرورُ لِبَعلِها مَولودا

    Then behold her unveiled: when she is deflowered,

    joy becomes, from her, a newborn to her bridegroom.

  4. وَاِنعَم بِها في ظِلِّ صِحَّتِكَ الَّتي

    أَضحى عَلَيكَ رِواقِها مَمدودا

    And savor her beneath the shade of your health, whose

    canopy now stretches wide above you.